


Seeing the Light

by forgettingthedetails



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:36:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2199078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgettingthedetails/pseuds/forgettingthedetails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dave!” You heard from across the house.<br/>Your name is DAVE STRIDER, well, not the actual one, a bootleg Dave Strider. Your name is DAVESPRITE and you really just want to continue PRUNING YOUR FEATHERS. Shit gets dirty, yo. But no, John needed you so urgently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeing the Light

“Dave!” You heard from across the house.

Your name is DAVE STRIDER, well, not the actual one, a bootleg Dave Strider. Your name is DAVESPRITE and you really just want to continue PRUNING YOUR FEATHERS. Shit gets dirty, yo. But no, John needed you so urgently.

“Dave!” You heard again, this time higher pitched. “I swear to fucking god John if this is something mundane again I’m going to literally flip the fuck right out of this house, do a double pirouette off of your driveway and fly as far away as I can from you. Probably get caught in the orbit of Skaia, hang out in the veil like some pack of post-sburbian trolls-”

You enter the kitchen, and your rant comes to an end upon seeing John, having two lightbulbs he had presumably alchemized in his hands.

“Hey, hey Dave, how many Egberts does it take to change a lightbulb?”

“Hopefully only one, just make a ladder or something.”

You turn to leave with a flap of wings, but John grabs your tail, and you’re forced to turn around.

“Please, Dave.” He says, his blue eyes way too big. He looks like one of those baby deer and you’re the hunter with his bow pulled back, ready to shoot, but the thing is just too damn cute with his baby blues. So now the manly hunter adopted this little baby deer and all of his friends are like “yo man, that ain’t you” and the hunters like “nah bro, this ain’t me but do you see the eyes on this one” and they’re like “yeah man, carry on”.

“Fine”

Then you’re flying just above the ground, and he’s getting on your shoulders. His god tier hood swaying in your field of vision. You can’t see shit. “John I have no clue where we’re going.”

“Trust me bro, just go a little bit left”

You do as he says, a little bit shaky on your wings. Your tail hits the chair of the table, and you wobble a little bit more to the right than you intended.

“Dave! Hold still.”

You try, you really do, but staying in place while hovering is a lot harder than you expected it to be, and just a small bit of bobbing sends john into the ceiling, hitting his head hard against the plaster.

“Ow!” He screams, grabbing the top of his head.

“Oh my god just put the light bulb in”

“I think I’m concussed.”

“Here just give me the spare-”

“No, Dave I’ve got this-”

And you’re reaching up, and he’s trying to keep it from you and this is just a gigantic mess. The only thing that could make it worse was when you heard a shatter on the ground.

“It’s okay I made an extra! But it’s on the table…”

“Oh my god”

You try to transition yourself so that you can take yourself and the 130 pounds of uselessness on your shoulders to retrieve the light bulb on the kitchen table.

“No dude let me pick it up” You say, exasperated.

“Can’t you just get closer to the ground so I can get it?”

“John that is literally the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard ever.”

“Just do it Dave”

“Oh my god”

Hovering close to the ground, John leaned over to grab the bulb. Too much weight went to your front and in an attempt to keep both of your afloat, you squabble to find the center of gravity, throwing your neck back. John, already ungraceful enough just sitting on your shoulders, took a swan dive into the linoleum tiles below.

“I’m definitely concussed.”

You sit down next to him, and he laid his hurt head on your shoulder. You try to hold in a laugh, but it’s impossible, John couldn’t seem to contain himself either.

“Oh my god John you’re so dumb.” You whisper, a clawed hand sitting on his waist in the darkness of your kitchen.

And for once, you don’t feel like a bootleg.

**Author's Note:**

> BABIES FIRST FLUFF GOD BLESS


End file.
